


Coffee Shop AU

by ConnorProject2K17



Series: Dear Evan Hansen [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, alana is happy, and we learn what 'Connor Murphy' is in Irish, connor is happy, hopefully, just happiness all round, we will have no abusive relationships thank you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-23 20:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13795911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConnorProject2K17/pseuds/ConnorProject2K17
Summary: "You're the cute and quiet customer that frequents the coffee shop where I'm a barista and also where my rival barista works and we're both fighting for your attention in increasingly creative and inconspicuous ways (making foam art, writing cheesy pick-up lines on your napkin etc. etc.)" AU.From origami-teacup on tumblr.Connor and EvanI am an idiot, I forgot to put the evan/connor tag!Anyway, my tumblr is 'the-real-dionysus'





	1. Crap, he's cute...

Connor sighed drearily, and watched as another beanie-wearing, scarf-covered hipster made their way out of the shop with their overly-complicated order. God, what he wouldn’t give to live in a different part of town, a part where the teenagers weren’t so… hipster-y.

He had been mistaken for a hipster, on more than one occasion. The eyeliner and long hair did that, but Connor considered it a testament to his punk-rock-iness. Besides, if anyone was going to be hipster, it was that damn Jared.

Jared, the self proclaimed King of Memes, with his square glasses and geek shirts. The little swot had only come in to fix the heater, and by the end of the day he’d landed himself a job. Connor still couldn’t wrap his head round it. And it had been a month ago.

One month, two weeks, three days since the turd had sauntered in Connor’s life, and made it unnecessarily harder than it needed to be. Not that Connor was counting.

Jared was a good employee; hard-working and on time. Connor was too, but that was because his father would take away his allowance if he missed even one shift. And he needed that allowance.

Of course, Jared had one thing Connor didn’t; charm. He could flirt, and schmooze, and put up the rainbow-haired hipsters and their rainbow-coloured drinks. Connor had the temper of a raging bull, and was always a customers last resort.

Well, the regulars, anyway. There were always those Twilight-Fifty-Shades idiots who thought he was cute, and tried to slip him their number.

Half of them were women, so he wouldn’t have accepted them anyway.

Anyway, it was a dull Monday morning in the summer holidays, and Connor watched as another hipster made their way out. He turned and started fiddling with the coffee machine-he didn’t know why-when the bell above the door dinged.

Letting out a small frustrated groan, he spun on his heel, ready to face whichever annoying customer wanted their caramel-latte-whatchamajig.

And froze.

A boy, hopefully around his age, stood in the doorway, peering around like he had never been in a coffee shop before. His hands twisted together, his fingers knotting themselves around each other like he was trying to figure out an impossible puzzle. Connor swallowed as he took the boy in; dirty blond hair, styled perfectly to the side. Naturally tanned skin, quite a fit body hiding underneath a heavy polo shirt, and what looked like a permanently worried expression.

Connor suddenly became painfully aware of his hurried hair bun, and paint covered shirt. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to this Adonis in the doorway, when a loud voice interrupted him;

“Hey, Evan!”

Connor twisted his head so fast he thought it would snap, and locked onto a pair of thick glasses, and a geeky shirt.

Kleinman.

Jared waved his arm enthusiastically, calling the boy over, who awkwardly shuffled from the doorway to the counter. He kept his head down, and his shoulders up, never looking away from the dusty floor.

“Hey, hey Jared.” He muttered, getting caught on the word ‘hey’. Jared flashed him a smile, larger than any he’d given to a customer, and leant over his counter.

“So… small hot chocolate? No cream?” he asked, and Evan nodded. Connor’s jaw clenched as he watched Jared natter animatedly to the cute customer, stopping only to fill cups and steam machines and what have you.

Evan didn’t stay long, only picking up his hot chocolate, paying and leaving. Connor stared after him, feeling ever so slightly uncomfortable.

Was he jealous?

No. No, that’s ridiculous. He’d never had a real reason to be jealous before, other than of his sister. He was Connor Murphy; punk-rock extraordinaire. He didn’t get jealous over boys. He didn’t get jealous of Kleinman.

But he did glare at Jared every time his back was turned for the rest of the day.

 

The next day was the same. Evan came in, a different blue polo shirt, and meakly ordered the same thing. Jared chatted loudly with him, and then he left. All the while, Connor stared on, his gut twisting tighter and tighter as he examined the other boy.

Handsome, but he didn’t seem to know it. He held himself like he was made of glass, like a single touch from anyone would break him into a million pieces. He seemed so delicate, Connor wasn’t sure he wouldn’t.

But he was strong too; thick arms, muscle, strong jaw. Connor hated his body, too wiry and bony, but Evan… Evan was perfect. A Greek God, a Roman Soldier, a… a… another historical figure known for their strength. Jewish King?

Whatever.

Soft. Cuddly. Round face, soft stomach. The more Connor thought about him, the more his stomach seemed to flutter. What was happening to him?

He decided to do something about it. And he only knew one person who could help…


	2. Alana to the rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We will have no abusive relationships on my Good, Satanic Fanfiction, thank you.

“Excuse me?” Alana asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. Connor held himself a little tighter. This is so awkward for him.

“I need… help. Please.” he repeated. Alana scoffed.

“Since when do you need my help? Oh wait, let me guess; you’ve left another assignment until the last minute again?” she smirked, a strange look on her, and Connor decided she’d spent too much time with his sister.

“No. No, this is a… personal problem.” how did he say this? He liked Alana, sure. She was a bit full-on, but she made Zoe happy, and therefore made Connor happy. She was also the only person he felt close enough to talk to without being yelled at.

“What is it?”

“I…”

“Yeah?”

Connor sighed, and ducked his head. They were sitting in the café on his off-day, and people-watching. It was strangely domestic. Connor hadn’t done it before.

“I know… someone. And…”

“Connor,” 

He looked up to see her staring back at him with dark eyes. They were a lot kinder than his sisters, but less demanding than his mothers. It was sad they were the only two other women he knew.

“I can’t help if you don’t let me.” she told him. He bit his lip, and opened his mouth, to tell her never mind, to leave, to apologise, when the door opened.

Connor looked up, and his heart seemed to rise and fall at the same time. 

Evan. The bane of Connor’s workplace. With his perfect blond hair, and baggy shirts. He looked around for a bit before he found Jared, happily cleaning the workplace, and went to talk to him. 

Connor felt his face heat up, and Alana made a small ‘oh’ noise.

“What, do you owe him money or something?” she asked, and Connor glared at her.

“Did you punch him?” 

Connor ducked his head, his long hair falling over his eyes, and shook his head.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“He’s just…”

“What?”

“He’s cute!” he almost yelled, then heard himself, and ducked his head again. Alana frowned at him.

“Well how was I supposed to know, i’m gay!”

“Yeah, so am I. Now can you help?”

Alana leaned back, seemingly contemplating. Connor waited for a moment, his stomach twisting around and around, before she perked up; eyes bright and smile wide.

“Oh, Conchobhar Murchadha, how you have fallen.” she said, biting her lip in excitement. Connor blinked at her.

“Chon-... what?”

Alana sighed, like he was being thick on purpose. Connor hated that sound.

“It’s the Irish version of ‘Connor Murphy’. Your families Irish, aren’t they?” she asked, leaning her head on her hand. Connor crossed his arms around himself. 

“You told you that?” he asked, feeling his face heat up. 

“Zoe.”

“Ah. And what’s that is Irish?”

“Zooey.”

Connor laughed.


	3. Oh God, it's soooo awkward...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried guys, I really did...

By the next day Connor had a plan. He would get that cute blond’s attention, even if it cost him his job.

Well, maybe not that far. Larry wouldn’t be pleased if he was fired because of a boy. He’d only just come round to his son being gay, Connor didn’t want to push his luck.

Setting up his coffee machine, Connor patiently watched as customer after customer shuffled through the door, eyes peeled for a blue shirt, or blond hair.

Finally, at three in the afternoon, the bell rang, and Evan appeared. He did his usual search of the room, before making his way over to Kleinman’s counter. Connor took a deep breath, then cleared his throat in what he hoped was an inconspicuous manner.

Evan turned, and locked eyes with him. Connor leaned over the counter, and pushed a lock of hair behind his ear, giving Evan lidded-eyes, half-smirk. This did several things;

One, it showed off his several earrings, which he’d been complimented on in the past by many customers, and drove home his ‘punk aesthetic’. Connor only hoped that wouldn’t scare Evan away.

Two, the ‘tucking hair behind ear’ move was pretty well known, and should send a clear message to Evan of his intentions. Plus, Connor had taken extra care to wash it five times that morning, to make it look fluffy and soft. It would have been a sixth if Zoe hadn’t almost barricaded the door down, yelling about needed the toilet. His mom had commented on it looking nice, which Connor had taken to heart. He’d nearly asked her to help him brush it, like when he was little, out of desperation. But he was pretty sure she would have had an aneurysm. 

He was well aware that ‘my mom said I looked handsome’ was a pathetic thing to say, but hopefully it wouldn’t crop up in conversation.

Three, leaning over the counter put his awesome arm tattoos on display. Yeah, it was only a lightning bolt and a tree, but that was kind of punk, right? 

Back to the present, Evan was frozen in the middle of the room, stuck in a staring contest with Connor. For a second, Connor thought he’d made a mistake, and that Evan would go running for the hills. Until the door opened again, the bell rang, and Evan jumped in surprise. That seemed to break the spell, and the blond awkwardly came closer to Connor’s counter.

Connor’s heart leapt in his throat. This was it. The moment of truth. Him and Evan. Evan and Him.

What had he been thinking?! He had never spoken to Evan before! He didn’t even know if he was gay, or liked boys, or anything! Connor was going to make an idiot out of himself, and then Kleinman would laugh at him, and he’d be fired for punching the creep, and Larry would make him work at his dumb law firm and-

“Hey-hey.” Evan muttered, eyes glued to the floor. Connor tilted his head, hair falling neatly, and caught a glimpse of bright copper. Evan had brown eyes, interesting.

“What can I-er, what can I get you?” Connor asked. His chest felt tight, the rhythmic pounding of his heart almost bursting through his ribs. He was an idiot. A creep. Probably a sociopath if he thought Evan would ever like him.

“A-a small hot choco-chocolate, no-no cream.” Evan’s voice was so quiet, it was almost a whisper. It made a hot flush crawl up Connor’s neck. He nodded silently, and moved to start working on the coffee machine with shaking hands.

What did he say? What did he say? What did he know about Evan? Oh that’s right; nothing. He was friends with Kleinman, but Connor wanted to keep him as far away from the conversation as possible. He was shy; but he might not appreciate being told that. Oh god, this was a disaster.

Connor turned back, hot chocolate in hand, and gave Evan a small smile. He wasn’t really used to smiling; he’d never had a reason to before. 

Evan took the drink in equally shaking hands, and was about to leave, when Connor panicked.

“Wait!” he yelled, and Evan flinched. Connor felt like crying; idiot, screw-up, failure. What to do, what to do.

“Err, did you, um, want foam, or something?” he asked, tripping over his words. Evan stood there a moment, staring into his drink, before answering.

“Yes, yes please.” and he handed the drink back.

Connor fiddled with the foam machine, and before finishing grabbed the chocolate powder.

“Pow-powder?” he managed to get out over a heavy tongue, and Evan squeaked out a small ‘yes please’ behind him.

Now, Connor didn’t consider himself good at many things, but even he could admit he was alright at art. His teachers all praised and admired him, and there were even a couple of his paintings hanging in his hallway, thanks to his mum. So, making foam art couldn’t be that hard.

After a few failed attempts, partly because of his hesitation, shaking and ‘Evan’s waiting, you’re wasting his time, hurry up!’, Connor managed a small chocolate heart.

He turned, handed it to the other, and hoped for the best. Evan handed over the money, looking like he was going to be sick with fear, and quickly left.

Connor watched as he walked out the door, and thought about his bed at home. A plush king-sized bed where no one could see him cry from exhaustion, and low self-esteem. What a lovely idea.

However, the next few people who came through the door had other ideas, as they all crowded around Connor’s counter, eyeing his tattoos, silky hair,and earrings.

Connor sighed.

 


	4. Alana being a great person!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana deserved better in the musical, and i'm going to give it to her, dammit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy-ness ahead!

“‘Are you a magician? Cause when I look at you, everyone else disappears.’”

Alana just nodded, looking deep in thought. A moment passes, before a grin split her face, and she doubled over laughing.

“Oh my god, Connor! That was so bad!”

“Well it’s supposed to be! It needs to make him laugh.” Connor huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t admit it, but he really appreciated her help. 

“Well from everything I know about him, he seems easily spooked. Maybe something a little less, I don’t know, something that doesn’t focus directly on him?” she tried. Connor narrowed his eyes, hoping he didn’t look too angry, and knelt his head on his hand.

“Isn’t it supposed to focus on him? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well I have just as much experience in dating as you!”

“So, none?”

“Basically.”

Connor huffed again, and wrote another line on the napkin in front of him.

“‘I’m not a photographer, but I can picture us together’”

“But… you are a photographer. You are literally going to college to learn how to photograph stuff.” Alana pointed out, looking confused.

“So it’ll start a conversation.”

“What? ‘So I know this says you aren’t one, but on the off chance you are, are you a photographer?’”

“You are no help whatsoever.”

“On the contrary, I am excellent help.”

She took the pen from him, and picked up another napkin. Connor tilted his head to read what she was writing.

“If that sentence starts with, ‘Do you know what my shirt’s made off,” I’m never asking for your help again.” he threatened. Alana gasped like she was offended. Connor hoped she wasn’t.

“I can’t believe you’d think so lowly of me.” she told him, and was about to go back to writing, when she paused, and picked up another napkin. Connor laughed.

“Suspicions confirmed.”

“Shut up.”

While she writing, Connor focused on this moment. This was nice, he realised, being able to tell someone to shut up, or insult with the full knowledge that they were joking. He liked it.

“‘For some reason, I was feeling a little off today. But when you came along, you definitely turned me on’”

“I thought we were trying to not spook him?” Connor blinked as he read it, feeling shocked that Alana had written this.

“You’re just jealous that you hadn’t thought of it.”

“Well,” Connor shrugged, he couldn’t disagree with her there. “Just let me try.”

They passed back napkins and pens, their suggestions ranging from,

“‘Are you religious? Cause you’re the answer to all my prayers.’”

“Let’s keep religion out of this. What is he really is religious?”

“Good point.”

To,

“Are you sure you’re no tired? Cause you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

“He might panic that he looks tired. I mean he doesn’t, he’s handsome as fuck, but he seems like he would panic.”

“Damn it Connor, can’t you just fall in love with someone who doesn’t freak out at the first sign of attraction?”

“You haven’t met him, Alana!”

“Neither have you, technically!”

That shut him up. He hadn’t really met Evan, didn’t know him. Didn’t know if he was straight, or ace, or gay. Didn’t know if he’d like Connor back, or if he’d laugh in his face. Connor had been making all these assumptions about him, after one interaction, and several minutes of staring from afar.

“Connor?”

He looked up, to see Alana watching him with a worried expression. He gave her a sad smile.

“You’re right.”

“Sorry?”

“I don’t know him. This is pointless, it’s not like he’s really going to like me back.”

Alana looked heartbroken. It made Connor feel worse.

“Connor, no, I’m so sorry.” she almost whispered. “You’re getting better, Zoe told me, and we’ve been sitting here talking for, like, half an hour now. You’re a good person, and I like spending time with you. Evan will too. And if he doesn’t, then fuck him. You can come to my house, and we’ll eat ice cream and watch Bridget Jones’ Diary.”

Connor gave a small laugh.

“Thanks. That sounds nice.”

“And if he does accept, then we’ll do it anyway.”

Connor laughed louder.

 


	5. Dammit, Jared

  


The bell rang, a sound Connor was sure was now integrated into the corner of his mind until he died. He turned, Alana still scribbling onto what looked like the fifteenth napkin, and felt panic rise inside of him like a bubble.

Evan. On the dot. Because why would the universe want to do him any favours?

Connor spun back around in his seat so fast he felt his neck would break, and began grabbing as many of the ink-covered napkins as he could. Many of them ripped, and scrunched up under his hands, but he didn’t care.

“Hey! Connor, wha-” Alana spluttered, her pen being ripped from her hand, and looked up to see Connor shooting his arms out, snatching things from across the table.

“Not now Alana. Sorry, but You-Know-Who,” he nodded to Evan across the room, “just walked in. We need to hide these.”

Alana looked over at Evan. She could tell the boy was handsome, despite her lack of attraction towards him, and really did want to help Connor. She wasn’t attracted to boys, sure. But she wasn't attracted to shoes either, and she knew when a pair looked good. Connor needed an anchor in his life, someone to hold him and make him feel better, and maybe give him kisses on the side. And ‘Evan’ didn’t look like the type to scarper after one date.

Alana looked back at Connor, frantically shoving as many napkins into his pockets as physics would allow. She frowned, and carefully reached out, grabbing the final napkin from the table. Connor looked up at her with worried eyes.

“Good,” he nodded sharply, “thanks. Now let’s throw these in the bin before he finds them.”

Alana didn’t say anything. Instead, she got up, and walked over to his side of the table. She gave him what she hoped was an apologetic look, and without thinking about the consequences, dug her hands into his pockets.

“Hey! Alana, what the fuck are you-”

“Connor, trust me.”

Gathering as many napkins as she could before Connor could retaliate, Alana held them in her hands, and moved to the opposite side of the room.

“No. No, Alana, NO, WAIT!”

It was too late. Connor watched helplessly as she tapped Evan on the shoulder, who flinched somewhat dramatically, and handed him the napkins. There were about ten, in total, each covered corner to corner in inky words, on both sides. They were a little bit ripped, and the ink was slightly smudged from their sweaty hands, but still readable.

Connor’s stomach plummeted.

“Here,” Alana said, handing Evan the napkins. “A gift from the boy over there, Connor. He’s a barista here, he’s served ou before, and we hope you can read out handwriting. Anyway, I won't tell you what these are for, hopefully you can figure that out on your own, but if you can’t just talk to me. Or talk to Connor, that would be a big help. Bye.”

And with that she turned and left the cafe.

Evan watched her leave, feeling slightly startled, and looked down at the paper in his hand. He almost picked one up, then realised he was standing aimlessly in the middle of the room, and went to find a seat.

Once he had sat down, avoiding everyone’s eyes, he picked up a napkin, smoothed it out, and read it.

‘Guess what i’m wearing? The smile you gave me’

Evan frowned. That was… strange. Why would Connor give him this? It was a nice compliment, a little silly perhaps, but nice. He turned it over.

‘Nice shirt. Can I talk you out of it?’

He looked down at his shirt. Did Connor not like it? Was it disturbing the other customers? Was it too blue? He picked up another one.

‘I’ll kiss you in the rain so you’ll get twice as wet’

Ah. Well then. That was… naughty. Bloody hell. Evan felt his face grow red. He turned, and saw Connor, staring at him from the other side of the room. Perhaps staring was the wrong word. Watching, perhaps?

Evan couldn’t help but admit that Connor was a little… attractive. With his long hair, and tattoos, and earrings. But Evan had only just realised he was bi, this was all new territory for him.

“Hey, Ev,”

Evan flinched, and turned to see Jared strutting towards him.

“Hey, Jar.”

“Whatcha got there?”

Oh god. This was bad. Could there be a worse place to be found than sitting at a table with pick-up line covered napkins? Some of these were really naughty, Jared would never let him live it down.

“Noth-nothing.” Evan lied, and quickly began shoving the into his backpack. Jared frowned, looking slightly hurt, and Evan sighed.

“Just… promise you won’t laugh?”

“Promise.” Jared gave the brownie sign, and Evan laughed. It was stupid but, somehow he believed him.

Jared picked up a napkin, and read off of it.

“‘Are you Google, because you’re everything i’m searching for’” Jared pulled a face. “Evan, buddy. If you’re going to ask someone out, use better lines than these.”

From across the room, Connor frowned.

“Here, scooch over,” Jared sat down next to Evan in the booth, and dug a pen out of his pocket. “Who are you asking out?”

“They’re not mine!” Evan protested, feeling a bit ashamed. He wasn’t sure why. “They were given to me from a barista.”

Jared wiggled his eyebrows mischievously.

“Ooh, a secret admirer?”

“Hardly. I know who it is.”

“Who?”

Evan turned, and looked back at Connor, who was now scrolling through his phone.

“Him.”

Jared followed his line of sight, and let out a low whistle.

“Damn. I’d tap that.”

“Jar, you’re aro/ace.”

“Well, he’s aesthetically pleasing, i’ll give him that.”

Evan sighed. Again.

“What do I do?”

“Here,” Jared scribbled something onto the napkin. “Give him this.”

Evan took the napkin from his friend, and made his way over to Connor.

“Here,” he went a bit red. “This is for you. From me. Obviously, sorry i don’t know why i said that. Sorry.”

He almost smacked the napkin onto the table, and spun around, running back to his seat.

“So, so what did you write on there anyway?” he asked. Jared gave him a smile.

Connor looked down at the napkin, and read outloud.

“‘We’re like marshmallows and hot chocolate. You’re hot, and I want to be on top of you’”

From across the room, he heard a voice scream, “JARED, WHAT THE FU-”


	6. We're almost there........

Connor was a mess. He hadn’t slept, thoughts of Evan running through his head, running around and around like a million tiny puppies. Admittedly they were blond, brown eyed puppies... who only seemed to wear blue polo shirts… and had the most adorable smile… and LIKED HIM BACK,

“Connor!”

He jumped, his arm knocking a cup of coffee, and swore loudly as he scurried to pick it up off the floor.

“Shi-sorry Alana!” he apologised, and placed the cup back on the counter. She just tutted, and grabbed a napkin to clean up the spill.

“Honestly Connor this is ridiculous. This is the first time i’ve had to wake you up today, are you sure you’re not tired?” she asked, giving him a sad look from behind her glasses. He felt something dampen his bad mood, and tried to smile at her.

“Yeah-yeah, i’m fine, thanks. Just… didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Why not?”

“Evan.”

Her head snapped up, and she gave him a shocked look. It took him a moment for his tired brain to place the pieces together.

“Wha-no! Alana, not like that!” he huffed, and knelt across the counter, struggling to keep his tired head up.

“It’s just…” she looked around, and leaned forward. “You still haven’t told me what happened yesterday.”

Ah. Right. Connor pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed.

“He, um,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and Alana’s eyes widened expectantly. “He gave me his own pick up line.”

Alana gasped.

“Really? That’s great Connor! What was it?”

Connor crooked his finger, and carefully whispered into her ear what Evan’s napkin had said. Alana made a small noise of disgust.

“I know it’s gross,” he nodded as he leaned back. “But apparently Jared had written it for him. I think they’re fucking with me, this can’t be real.”

Alana shook her head, a worried expression crossed her face.

“No, Connor. You can’t know that.”

“But what if-”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, i promise you Evan’s thinking it too. We both know he’s never going to make the first move, so it’s up to you.” she placed a hand on his, and for once he didn’t want to push her away.

“I just…”

“Look!” she pointed behind him, “there he is now!”

Trying not to yell at her lack of subtly, Conor turned, and felt a blush crawl up his neck. Evan was sitting at a booth, watching them both over a cup of coffee. A smile tugged at Connor’s lips, and he turned back, face red.

“What do I do?!” he hissed. Alana shrugged, not at all bothered by her own unhelpfulness.

“I don’t know. Just go.”

“I can’t just-”

“Excuse me, Mr Reyes!” Alana’s voice echoed through the cafe, making several people jump. The older man turned to yell at whoever it was, but softened when he saw Alana.

“Oh, hello Ms Beck.” he moved closer to Connor’s counter. “How can I help you?”

Alana tucked a braid over her shoulder, and beamed at him.

“Connor here would like the day off to talk to a cute boy-”

“Deal.” Mr Reyes said, and walked off before she could finish her sentence. They both stared stared after him in amazement.

“How did you…” Connor couldn’t find it in himself to continue. Alana shrugged.

“I don’t know. He must like you.” she smiled at him and, placing a hand on his arm, dragged him out of his counter, and towards Evan’s seat. By the time Connor had realised what was happening he was in front of the cute boy already.

“Alana, I can’t just-oh, hey Evan.”

Evan looked up from the book he was reading, Connor spotted a photograph of a tree, and slammed it shut when he saw who it was.

“Hey-hey Con-Connor.” he stammered. They both stood there awkwardly, before Alana spoke up.

“Evan, you mentioned a colourful tree, or something, in biological science, didn’t you?” she asked. Evan seemed to both perk up and shy away at the same time.

“Er, yeah, the rainbow eucalyptus. Sorry.” neither he or Connor looked away.

“Well,” with no warning Alana grabbed Connor’s sleeve, yanked it up, and left.

The silence that fell over them rang in the air, neither of them really having anything to say. Dragging his eyes from Connor’s face, Evan saw a splattering of ink on Connor’s bicep, and a smile stretched across him.

“Is-is that an angel oak tree?” he asked. Connor blinked out of his daze, and looked down at his tattoo.

“Oh, is it? I just… it looked nice in the tattoo book.”

He felt so stupid. He didn’t even know the name of the tree. Is it a normal thing to know the name of trees? Was he missing out? God, Evan looked pretty when he smiled like that.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s lame…”

“No!” Connor almost cried, before catching himself. “No. That’s really cool. Maybe you could tell me more…”

“Well,”

And Evan was off. Connor learned more about trees than he had ever thought he wanted to. And he found, he did want to. Trees were cool, Evan made them sound cool. Connor liked hearing him talk about them.

“So-so Jared came and found me, and took me home.” Evan was saying about last summer, when he’d broken his arm. Connor winced in sympathy.

“I’m so sorry. Was… did Jared take you to the hospital?” he asked, lightly treading around the bigger question.

“Yeah, he did. My mum’s a nurse there, so she took care of me.”

“And… did Jared visit?”

“Yeah, why?”

Connor realised how he must have sounded.

“Nothing! Sorry, that seemed really obsessive, didn’t it? Sorry.” Connor sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. Screw it, he had nothing to lose. If Evan didn’t like him, Alana had always promised him ice cream and Bridget Jones’ Diary.

“I just… look, are you and Jared dating?”

Evan blinked, and his eyes slowly widened as realisation hit him.

“Oh. Oh!” he swallowed a laugh and reached out to hold Connor’s hand. “No, we aren’t. Jared and I didn’t have the best relationship a few years back-friendship relationship I mean-so he’s been trying to make up for it.”

Connor blinked in surprise.

“I mean, you can date whoever you want, don’t listen to me, but…” Connor felt himself get hot with embarrassment. Evan laughed.

“You’re fine. Sorry. I’m a mess.”

“No, you’re fine.”

“Am I?” Evan smiled. Connor found himself smiling back.

“Yeah. You are.”

They looked stared at each other, eyes flickering between their eyes and their lips. Connor leaned forward-holy shit, holy shit, this was happening-but found a hand on his mouth.

“Not here,” Evan whispered, indicating to the rest of the room. Connor looked around, and was slightly surprised when he saw other people. He had kind of thought they were alone.

“Back to mine?”

Evan smirked, a strange look on him, but one Connor was definitely grateful for.


	7. A word from The Author

Dear readers,

Just a quick note to say that, I know these chapters have been coming out pretty regularly, but I’m really sick right now and can’t go near my laptop. Like, not to be gross, but my skin is so itchy I keep tearing off parts and it’s all over my body. Anyway, I don’t know when this will stop, so this is just to say we may have to wait a while until we get to the end of this fic. Which is annoying because I think I only had one chapter left. You’ll just have to use your imaginations until I can get better.

If you have any recommendations for the next chapter please comment with your ideas :)

sincerly, Connor. 


	8. We're still not done...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm British, so we say PAVEMENT, not SIDEWALK. Hope that doesn't throw you off too much. Also, one use of the word 'Fuck'.  
> Me: *trying to think of when to end this fic*  
> Me: Not only am I going to beat this dead horse, I'm going to pick it up, and carry it's rotting corpse through the desert, across the lakes, past the mountains and into the city, where me and my friends will pick up sticks and then continue to beat this dead horse.

Connor didn’t have a car, Zoe drove him to University on her way too and from high school, and apparently Evan was a speed walker.

“I’m, err, kind of an exerciser?” Evan apologised as they stood awkwardly outside the cafe. “I-I just did a lot of these really rigorous, well not _rigorous_ , but difficult tasks at my summer job, so, um, I kind of have a lot of energy. And the-and the anxiety doesn’t really help but, er, i’m sorry.”

Connor gave him a small smile. The confidence had been drained out of him once he’d stepped foot out of the familiarity of the cafe, and into the bustling street of the pavement. All at once waves of fear and doubt had hit him, and he had half a mind to just run home and never look back.

What was he thinking? The ever-present thought of ‘you don’t know Evan, Evan doesn’t know you’ crept back, and Connor felt his palms stick with sweat. What would they talk about? Would they talk at all? Was Evan just using him for a quick fuck, and then dump him? Was this all just a ploy from Kleinman?

Connor turned back to the giant display windows, housing cakes and desserts, and caught Alana’s eye. She gave him a bright smile, and two thumbs up, beaming with pride for him, and he felt the unfamiliar whoosh of optimism flow through him.

He could do this. He deserved this. He wanted this.

He turned back to Evan, who seemed to be trying to chew right through his lip. Connor gave him a gentle smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, and Evan looked up from where he’d been staring nervously into the distance. He stopped chewing.

“I don’t really know what i’m doing,” Connor told him, “but whatever this is, or what I think-hope it is, I want it to happen. So to be clear, i’m going to tell you what I want this to be, and if you don’t like it, then you have every right to go back inside. I’m not going to force you to do anything. Okay?”

Evan nodded mutely, eyes falling to the ground. Connor took a deep breath.

“I’ve seen you in the cafe,” he said carefully, “and thought you were attractive. From the hour we just spent talking to each other, I enjoy your company; you make trees sound like a religion, Hansen.”

Evan laughed slightly, still looking unnerved. Connor’s heart went out to him.

“No really, I like you. A lot. And I went to spend time with you, doing things together. Being together. This is new to me, and I don’t know what to do. But I don’t want you to think for a minute that you have no choice in this.”

Evan didn’t say anything, and the well-known feeling of rejection came crashing around Connor, like bricks falling from the sky. Until Evan looked up at him again, licking his bitten lips, and said,

“I’d like those things too. If, you know, you want to.”

For not the first time that week, Connor gave a teeth-baring, face hurting grin. As he took Evan’s hand in his, he knew he could get used to that feeling.

 


	9. Cynthia being an amazing mum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A healthy relationship between Connor and Cynthia? Sign me the fuck up!

The walk to Connor’s was short, and bittersweet. Evan spent the half an hour they had praising trees, and Connor would interject with a joke or genuine question, that left bright smiles crossing Evan’s face. At first the smiles were small; just a barely noticeable flicker of his lips, before blinking like he’d been staring at the sun, and getting back on track. Then, as the conversation continued, they grew until the street lamps shone off of his teeth, and his nose crinkled with laughter.

Connor loved that he could make Evan do that. He wanted to make Evan smile, and laugh, and just… be happy with him all the time. It made a warm glow fizz like a hole in his chest. 

“Connor?”

He looked up, and saw his own door staring back at him. Evan was nervously picking at his shirt, and Connor pulled his hand away, and held it in his own. He realised he’d been staring at Evan’s smile for the last five minutes of the walk and spaced out.

“Oh, err,” he fumbled with his pocket for a moment, before pulling out his keys and jamming them in the door. A heavy flush fell over his face, and he couldn’t help but feel slightly ashamed. He was making himself look like an idiot in front of Evan, who definitely wasn’t going to want to come inside, and was definitely going to make some excuse to leave, and-

“Connor, is that you?” A honey-sweet voice broke him out of his thoughts. Pushing open the door, and ignoring the yelling in his head, Connor led Evan through the hallway and into the front room.

“Hey mum.” 

Cynthia was sitting at the dining table, papers with messy writing and crayon scribbled over them littering the surface and falling to the floor. She looked up from what she was writing, and gave her son a stressed, but warm smile.

“Oh, hello dear. Sorry I was just marking some homework,” she clocked Evan almost immediately. “Oh, hello!”

She gave him a wide grin, and Evan instinctively backed away. Her smile fell.

“Oh, i’m sorry. I just-Connor doesn’t usually-”

She caught Connor’s eyes, who frowned at her, and she backtracked.

“He doesn’t bring friends from work.” she corrected, “Normally our front room is filled with these artistic, unfairly-photogenic, oh, what’s the word? Not posers, um…”

While she talking, Connor escaped to the kitchen, and began stealing biscuits, and cramming them into his trouser pockets. When they were brimming with chocolate, he went back into the front room, and awkwardly offered one to the shorter blond.

Evan gave Connor a grateful smile as he took it, which made Connor feel all sorts of things he couldn’t explain, and went back to Cynthia.

“Is, um, is Connor a model?” he asked sheepishly. Cynthia snapped her fingers in recognition.

“Model, that was the word. And no, dear, he isn’t. He’s a artist and photographer. Although,” she gave her son a sharp look. “He should be, don’t you think? He’s very handsome.”

Evan blushed, and ducked his head, still smiling.

“Ye-yes. He is. Mrs…”

“Murphy, dear.” she smiled back, looking the boy up and down, and raising an eye at her son. Connor hurriedly waved her off, before tugging on Evan’s sleeve.

“Do you, er, want to go to my room, Ev?” he asked. Evan gave him a surprised look.

“Ev?” he repeated. Connor almost scowled, before he remembered ‘oh yeah, i’m not supposed to do that anymore’, and grinned instead. 

“Is that, er, okay?”

“Yes. It is.” 

They smiled at each other, rather like idiots, before Cynthia spoke again.

“Why don’t you prepare your room, darling? I can have a nice chat with this lovely young man.” she gave a knowing look to her son, who stuck his tongue out, and left the room. But not before giving Evan a quick squeeze on his shoulder.

The door into the hallway shut behind him, and Evan turned back to the nice ginger sitting in front of him. 

“So, Evan,” she leaned forward, looking far more serious than she had while Connor was in the room. “Do you go to college?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Which one?”

“Princeton College of Botany and Environmental Science, ma’am.”

Cynthia nodded respectfully.

“Parents?”

“My mother works at the local law firm.”

“Oh, so does my husband. Lawrence Murphy.”

“The old guy who complains too much?”

Cynthia laughed before Evan could realise what he said. When the words finally caught up to him, he slapped a hand over his mouth.

“I-I’m so, so sorry! I’m just repeating what my mum said, not that she says that a lot, but-”

  
Cynthia waved him off, still laughing into the back of her hand.

“Don’t worry dear, I won’t tell him. But that was hilarious.”

She giggled for a little longer, the cleared her throat.

“Do you like Connor?”

“Yes.”

Evan answered before he’d had time to think about it. He did like Connor. A lot. And he wanted to spend time with him for as long as he could. Cynthia gave him a kind look with tired eyes.

“Thank you. Now go,” she indicated to the door, “my son’s waiting upstairs for you, and i’m about to leave. So be careful, and there’s a drawer of protection in the bathroom.” she gathered up the pieces of paper into her bag, while Evan blushed heavily.

“Where, um,” he tried to think of something to say. “Where are you going?”

“To the primary school down the road. I’m a teacher there, I just need to drop off this homework. It’ll take at least an hour, I need to pick up my daughter and husband, so you have the house to yourself.”

She smiled at him, and patted his shoulder as she left. Evan listened as both the hallway, and front door opened and closed, before the sound of a car driving away filled the air.

 

“Hey!” Connor yelled as he climbed down the stairs, jumping to the ground with a thump. “Is she gone?”

Evan awkwardly shuffled into the hallway, fiddling with his shirt. “Yea-yeah.”

Connor held his hand again. 

“Cool. Come upstairs, i’ll just text her goodbye, and we can watch a movie or something.”

Evan smiled, again. 

“Cool.”

 


	10. WoAh, LiViNg On A pRaYeR!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’ve reached the end people!!

Connor’s room was… simple. Unpainted brick walls, one giant window, a bed that took up most of the space, and a surprisingly ugly duvet. Green and yellow triangles, what the heck? Posters of movies and bands Evan vaguely recognised were hung on the walls, all framed instead of glued. A nice white desk, complete with half a dozen notebooks, a laptop and a swivel chair sat in the corner. It was nice. Calming.

“So, err,” Connor cleared his throat, and Evan realised he’d been standing in the doorway. He hesitantly moved into the room, the beige carpet rubbing against his socks.

“Do you, um, want to watch a movie, or…” Connor rubbed the back of his neck, giving Evan a nice view of his tattoo again. And his arms, which Evan had never really noticed before. They were nice too. Strong. Which was weird because Connor didn’t look like he’d be-

“Evan?”

Evan snapped out of his thoughts, and came face-to-face with a concerned Connor. Wow, his face was pretty up close.

“I, er, ye-yeah! That sounds… nice.” The words came burbling out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he quickly bit his tongue.

Oh god, he was an idiot. Connor was looking at his strangely. Could he read minds? Because there is actually nothing worse than being caught thinking Gay Thoughts about someone. Connor cleared his throat again.

“I never really use the tv downstairs, and I don’t have any dvds, but we can use my laptop?” he raised his voice like he was asking a question. “I mean, if you want to, sorry I don’t have a tv, but if it’s too small or you want to go home, we can-”

“Con.” Evan interrupted, something he never thought he’d do. But Connor had gone an alarming shade of red, and it was worrying him. Connor blinked rapidly, like he’d been daydreaming for too long, and raised an eyebrow at the shorter boy. Evan wondered why. Then his words caught up with him.

“I-I mean Connor.” he corrected. Connor gave him a small smile. Evan felt himself smile back.

He took a deep breath.

“I would love to watch a movie with you, on your laptop, in your room, Connor.” Evan said slowly, carefully thinking over his words. There was a moment's pause, not an uncomfortable one, and a wide grin spread across Connor’s face. It looked good, Evan decided, when Connor smiled.

The brunet reached out an arm, cautiously, and took Evan’s hand in his. Without saying anything, he lead them to the desk, and sat Evan down on the swivel chair.

“I’m, um,” he coughed into his fist, a move he’d accidently picked up from Larry. “I need to get another chair, so if you’re okay waiting…”

“I can get it,” Evan replied, surprising them both with the calmness in his voice, “i’ll get the chair and you setup the laptop.”

“Cool.”

“Thanks.”

Neither of them moved.

Evan’s eyes traced the outline of Connor’s face. His long, fluffy hair, falling like silk over his shoulders. His pale skin -not unlike a vampire- a thought Evan quickly dismissed from his mind. More like… a Victorian poet? That was the only other person with pale skin he could think of. Then again, poets and vampires were basically the same thing.

What was he talking about?

Connor diverted his eyes, and the small movement caught Evan’s attention. Wow. The small smudge of brown really brought out the blue. Like, they were really blue. Like… like, water. Like ice. Like that liquid that was pumped into patients’ blood at the hospital. Evan hated seeing that, but he had to see it when he visited his mother.

Crap. He had a point to this.

The blue eyes moved again, and Evan found that gorgeous face slowly inching closer. And… closer. Connor absentmindedly licked his lips, and something in Evan’s chest jumped.

Evan closed his eyes.

Something warm, and surprisingly soft pressed against his lips. Evan tilted his head, and almost jolted as Connor’s hands curled their way around his neck, pulling his closer. He let it happen, slowly losing himself to to the heat in his stomach, and the softness in his chest, and the fuzziness in his head. It felt like his body was humming, like a static made of pillows and cotton. Evan clumsily tried to hold Connor, wrapping his fingers in the brunet’s hair, when-oh.

Okay. Connor’s tongue was pressing against his lips. Okay, he could do that. He parted his lips blindly, and-okay. Evan didn’t know tongues could do that, but fuck if he was going to stop it.

Fuck.

Shit.

Wow.

A giggle-a very manly giggle-crept up Evan’s throat, and he released his-boyfriend’s? Lover’s? Junk buddy’s?-hair so he could pull away, and bury his head in Connor’s shoulder. Snickers wracked his body as he laughed, not entirely why he was. Connor was stroking his hair, and he melted into the touch.

“So, um,” his voice cracked slightly, and for once he couldn’t find it in himself to hate it, “the laptop?”

“Oh right.”

Neither of them moved.

Eventually they separated, and many, many kisses later (a lot of which ended up with Evan on the bed, and Connor on top of him), they tired themselves out. With the little energy he had left, Evan had his way downstairs, stole a chair from the dining table, and crept back up to Connor’s room. Connor somehow found a recording of a musical he wanted to show him (“Don’t worry it’s professionally recorded, totally legal.” “Is it sad? I’m not sure if I can handle sad.” “What, Falsettos? No, it’s hilarious.”) and Evan didn’t miss the brunet sneaking a box of tissues onto the bedside table. They sat surrounded by a mountain of pillows, buried under layers of ugly duvets and blankets.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with their arms lazily wrapped around each other, eyes contently watching the screen laying on their laps. Many tears were shed, and Connor ended up with a very sore arm as Evan hit him angrily. (“N-not *sniff* sad? Are you trying to *choke* kill me?”) Connor couldn’t answer, too busy blinking the tears away.

At some point Cynthia sent her son a message saying she and Zoe had to go to parents evening, and Larry needed to work late, and that he was sorry. Somewhat coincidently, Evan sent a message to his mother saying he was staying at a friend’s, and went to look around in the bathroom cupboards.

Life was good.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it obvious ive never written a big kiss scene before?


End file.
